


looking at the stars and wishing you were them

by Starful_nights



Series: danger days: year ten [7]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys: California (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Lists, Memories, The Mailbox, dd year 10, lists of memories, uhh, whatever the name of the cat robot was
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27619267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starful_nights/pseuds/Starful_nights
Summary: andromeda's alone, the only things she has are her lists, her rapidly fading memories, Cat, and her duty to the dead.
Series: danger days: year ten [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003392
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	looking at the stars and wishing you were them

**Author's Note:**

> the summary is so badass but the actual fic is Not shshsjsk  
> andie/andromeda is the girl btw she deserves a Name

Andromeda is never truly alone.

She has the stars. 

She has her cat.

And she has all the memories of the dead.

So many of them. So fucking many of them. What the hell. How did someone fit so much death into a life?

Her thoughts bounce about like the rocks she throws, making up lists and lists of irrelevant things. The things she sees, the memories she has. Maybe they'll be preserved this way 

A cactus over there.

A memory of Ghoul drinking acid rain.

The last jar of food she had.

Cat.

The lists she made in the past few minutes.

The rocks kick dust up into patterns that reminds her of...something. She seemed to lose a memory with every mask she dropped into the mailbox, daring the Witch to come out and face her rage.

Death was a part of it all, she knows, but why did it always happen to the ones around her? Why was she doomed to outlive everyone around her?

The Four dead. D and Cherri fucking disappeared in the depths of Zone Seven, their regular broadcasts the only thing reminding her of the life she had before they were found and had to go where she couldn't follow, apart from the memories that stang like acid rain. Chimp dead. Newsie dead. Neon Juice off in the north bit of Zone Six to investigate some spirit who kept making Power Pup explode, and unlikely to come back for months. Her crew—once crew—scattered across the Zones.

Her cat here.

The stars above her.

The cold metal of the mailbox's legs covered in paint and graffiti against her back.

Her mask on her face, just in case.

That's all she has.

Some memories she needs to not lose, now.

The spirit of Party Poison, standing in front of her.

The echo of a ghostly kiss on her forehead.

A hand in hers, warm.

Someone she knew once slipping in next to her, their back to the cold metal if the mailbox like hers.

Is this r 

"Andie?" A whisper. "You okay, love?"

Real, then. Probably. Hopefully. She'd never expected to hear that voice again, not like that, bth the same old thing an yet so new.

A smile that was so familar and yet so far away. Eyes the same shade as they were when they left her. Glittery tears painted on with the same precision as they used to be. 

"Are you really here?"

"Of course I am," the stranger who she knew says, and "Mind if I stay with you f'r a while? I need to find a mask and you seem like the one to help."

A smile that matched the crooked grin on their face. Belonging to her. 

A cat jumping between the two of them after she nodded, nuzzling up to the not-stranger whose name was lost with the silver-orange mask she gave to the Witch seven months ago.

A name she won't forget again.

Those were what she had now.

Memories she won't lose.

Maybe she wasn't really alone after all.


End file.
